


Tempest

by museicalitea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, vaguely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 01:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7199711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museicalitea/pseuds/museicalitea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"Hold on to me."</em>
</p>
<p>Yamaguchi sounds so sure. But being sure is one thing, and surviving—</p>
<p>Surviving—</p>
<p>(is quite another.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempest

**Author's Note:**

> Exam stress manifests itself in mysterious ways. I spent most of yesterday evening writing this when I should have been putting post-it notes into crime novels, but. Well. It's slightly more productive than procrastibaking.
> 
> Slightly.
> 
> (Based off a set of injury sentence starters, cross-posted from Tumblr)

_“Hold on to me.”_

He’s taller. He’s heavier. The wind is gusting fierce and frigid against this cliffside, and the sky is getting dimmer with every passing minute. They can’t survive a night on the cliff face. They’d get hypothermia, the both of them, and not even huddling for body warmth would spare them from the chilling reality of the fast-encroaching winter’s night.

But—

“Hold on to me,” Yamaguchi says again, half his words whipped away in the wind but his intent clear. His grazed fingers fumble with the knot binding his rope to his torso, and he begins to uncoil it as he glances up. “We’re not that far from—…—make it, Tsukki.”

“No!” Tsukishima says. Yamaguchi doesn’t even look at him, and he clenches his fists. A bad idea. Throbbing pain heightens into stabbing, and he clamps his lips together and forces his breaths through his nose as he curses himself— _idiot, idiot, it’s probably broken, you pathetic, stupid_ —

And when at last he can think straight, past the pain and self-reprimand, Yamaguchi has already begun to tie the rope in a harness and stuck his climbing hooks into his belt and argument will be his only way out.

“This is _suicidal_ , Yamaguchi,” he says, raising his voice so Yamaguchi can’t pretend he hasn’t heard him.

“I can climb this.”

“Not with me on your back!”

“We’re not far from the top.” Yamaguchi’s words are louder now as well. Firmer. He sounds so sure, but being sure is one thing and surviving—

Surviving—

“Which means,” Tsukishima says, turning to look Yamaguchi right in the eye and unable to keep the bile and fear from lancing through his voice, “that it’s that much further down to the sea if we fall.”

(is quite another.)

The wind howls about them and bites past his neck and through his clothes. It’s still getting darker. He’s sure that if there were search parties out for them—unlikely, given this island is so big and they’re so far from the ship—the captain would have called them in by now.

“Then we won’t fall,” Yamaguchi says. Even in what fading light there is, Tsukishima can tell how pale he is under his freckles and stern eyes. But he holds his chest firm; his hands are steady as he crouches, slow and cautious and pressed to the cliff face against another fierce moan and gust from the wind; his voice, when he speaks, is clear and full of conviction. “I know it’s dangerous, Tsukki. But if we want to get up there alive, we don’t have a choice. I’m going to climb it, and I want you to come with me.”

Tsukishima shakes his head. “I’ll be too heavy for you. It won’t _work_ , you’ll fall.”

“If you cling onto the cliff however you can, we’ll manage. I’ll _make_ it work, Tsukki.”

“We’ll fall.”

“Okay, maybe we’ll fall.” Suddenly, Yamaguchi scowls and his eyes come alight. His next words are more biting than the wind or the rock digging into Tsukishima’s back. “But I’d rather die quickly with my head smashed against the rocks while trying to make it out alive than freeze to death up here thinking that I did nothing. And I’m not leaving you here to die of hypothermia by yourself. I can’t do that, Tsukki.”

In the end, Tsukishima supposes Yamaguchi would have always got his way. Sometimes he forgets to have faith in Yamaguchi, or forgets that Yamaguchi really is stronger than he in more ways than he dares to admit. But however stubborn he gets, however much he gives into his cowardice and snaps and bites, Yamaguchi can get through to him. Somehow.

Now, it is because his voice wavers. Just slightly.

“Look, it’s… it’s getting dark, Tsukki. I need to start climbing while I can still see the cliff.”

This will be difficult. Tsukishima doesn’t want to have to trust so hard for such a risky venture. His hand hurts. His knee really hurts. He’s cold, and yeah; he’s scared.

But he sighs, and looks Yamaguchi in the eye once more, and says, “Fine. Help me up?”

Because Yamaguchi is one person he will try to trust to take him up the cliff—

To safety—

Or to go down trying his damnedest; with promises unbroken; together.

**Author's Note:**

> (interpret the ending however you please)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/museicalitea) | [Tumblr](http://museicaliteacup.tumblr.com/)
> 
> If you liked it, please leave kudos/a comment!


End file.
